Min Lilla Krigare: My Little Warrior
by FirstBloodContest
Summary: First Blood Contest Entry; Eric relays to Sookie the story of his first kill as a Viking boy. His first opportunity to use his sword is in defense of his young sister from invaders.


**First Blood Contest**

**Title: ****Min Lilla Krigare: My Little Warrior**

**Writer status: Serial **

**Beta: GaijinVamp**

**Characters: Eric Northman, Sookie Stackhouse; original Ylva, Bryndis, Arvid and Havard**

**Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all the characters and canon from the Sookieverse.**

**Warning: Slight reference to mistreatment of a child, to which I do not condone in any way, shape or form.**

"Higher, Eric!" Sookie squealed in delight as I pushed her—very gently, for me—on the swings at the nearly empty playground. On the first night that we were able to be together after the events in her yard days ago, we had decided to keep a low profile. She begged me to let us do something "normal." After much discussing and realizing that simply retiring to my bed was not an option we settled on the playground.

I drove Sookie through the drive-thru at McDonald's and got more than a few looks as I accepted her "Happy Meal" through the window of my corvette. The restaurant was promoting a reading program and the meal included a small toy, plastic Tinkerbelle doll. Appropriate.

After sitting at the dirty, wooden tables so that Sookie could finish her meal, we walked hand in hand over to the swing set. We had spent nearly an hour just talking and laughing, while I pushed her in the swings. It was the most comfortable I had been in weeks, and I was shocked.

And then I saw her. A young woman was walking to the swings beside us holding the hand of a little girl with long blonde hair and eyes that mimicked the waters of my homeland. The pair was discussing when they should leave the playground since it was already dark outside. Her tiny voice begged her mother to let her have five more minutes.

I was transfixed momentarily, but averted my eyes when the little girl's mother noticed my staring.

"Eric, are you alright?" Sookie asked me when the swing slowed to a stop.

I couldn't speak, for the first time in a thousand years Eric Northman didn't have anything to say. Sookie rose from the swing and turned to me. I felt her soft hand caress my cheek and I allowed her to turn my head to her.

"Oh Eric, you're crying. What's wrong, baby?" she cooed at me.

Was I crying? I raised my hand to my face and wiped away the crimson tears that were flowing from my eyes.

"Lover, would you mind if we just went home?" I asked her.

She didn't say a word, she only took my hand and we walked back to the car.

We arrived at my house about ten minutes later passing the drive in silence. Sookie held my hand and stroked it the entire ride while staring out through her window. I could sense her turmoil through the bond and I wanted to tell her what happened; but I simply was not sure how exactly to describe my thoughts.

After locking the doors to the house, I walked straight to our room. I considered this our house now, even if Sookie sometimes chose to stay in Bon Temps at the old farmhouse. She went into the kitchen and put a blood in the microwave for me.

Moments later, she walked into the room and set the blood on the nightstand next to me. I was sitting on the bed—thinking. She kissed my forehead before going into the bathroom.

I listened as she filled the bathtub and continued to stare at the wall, absorbed in my thoughts. I forced myself to stop staring and smile up as Sookie walked back into the room wrapped in one of my big towels. She reached out for my hand.

"Okay, you big Viking. You're coming with me. Don't make me drag you," she teased.

I feigned reluctance, standing and following her to the bath. Upon entering the bathroom, I stood and looked at her trying desperately to get the image of the little girl out of my head and just enjoy an evening with my wife.

"Clothes, off!"She directed me. I might have raised an eyebrow, but I complied and stripped off my clothes. I began to take my usual place in the bathtub towards the back so that Sookie could sit in front of me, but she beat me to it.

"No, tonight you lean on me."

I wasn't entirely sure how comfortable this would be, but I could tell that she was only trying to help me and to figure out what was holding my attention so hard.

It turned out that the tub was accommodating for us both, even in this position. I would have to remember this. Sookie, having acquired a plastic tumbler from somewhere, began pouring hot water across my back and shoulders. I shivered slightly as I acclimated to the warmth of the water.

"Now, lay back," she ordered. I have to admit, I was enjoying being ordered around like this. I gently placed my back across her soft breasts and leaned my head onto her waiting shoulder.

"Close your eyes and relax. When you are ready, can you tell me what upset you earlier?" she asked me.

I closed my eyes and felt her small hands rub up and down my arms in the hot water. She wrapped her arms around my torso and began kissing the parts of my neck she could reach. She was humming a song that I did not recognize but found immensely calming. I felt both disturbingly human and at ease at the same time.

"It was the little girl in the park. She brought back a memory, something I have not thought about in hundreds of years. She made me remember my first kill." I spoke at last.

"You mean your first kill as a vampire? Was it a little girl?" she asked and I felt her cringe just slightly.

"No, Sookie. My first kill as a human. And even after I became vampire, I would never, ever kill a child. I was punished many times by Appius for refusing to obey orders. No, she made me think of my younger sister, Ylva," I replied.

I felt her let out a breath, presumably happy that I had killed no children. I knew that my lover carried a raw pain over the thought of never having children, and I myself had been a father. Children were off limits.

"Tell me. Please?" she asked me, planting another kiss on my neck.

"Very well," I began, taking in a breath. "It was my fifteenth summer and I had been instructed to escort my sister to the lake for bathing."

The day was warm and I had spent the morning working in the fields with my father and brothers. When the sun was high, we returned home for the midday meal. My father walked into our home and kissed our mother passionately. The two younger boys erupted into a fit of laughter that ended abruptly with a stern look from faðir

It was rare for a couple to be as affectionate as our parents were, but they had fought hard to be with each other. Our father was of noble blood and fell in love with a common woman. Their marriage almost did not happen.

Our mother laid a meal of bread, cheese and warm mead out before us. We, the children, sat and ate in silence. We did not speak unless spoken to, and we listened to our parents talk.

My father spoke of the impending harvest and assured her that it would be a plentiful one. He talked of the previous night's meeting with the elders. Apparently, a ship had been spotted in the distance. No one knew to whom it belonged, and it was being treated as a threat until the assurance of safety could be made. He explained that he may be called upon to fight. We knew our roles in the household should that happen.

I remember my mother and my sister Bryndis were preparing to go into the village. "Havard, I need Erik today. I must go to market and will take Bryndis with me, but Ylva needs to bathe. I know that you cannot go with her, but I would feel safer with these rogue ships, if she had her brother with her," my mother told the both of us.

I did not relish the idea of traipsing along behind my little sister but I knew better than to voice my opinion.

"Erik, you have heard your mother. You will take Ylva to the water to bathe. Are your sword and shield prepared?"

My head sprang up at hearing the order to take my sword. Never before had he allowed me to carry it alone. My heart swelled with pride and suddenly the job seemed less like a chore and more like a privilege or a rite of passage.

"Yes, father."

"Good. Gather your sword and your sister and go now."

I raced into the room I shared with all of my siblings and retrieved the heavy sword my father had given me , the bag containing the rough soap and bathing necessities and the pile of clean clothes my mother had laid out for Ylva by the door.

My sister sat just outside of the house playing with a small doll that my mother had crafted. Her blonde hair hung long past her shoulders and covered most of her face.

"Come, Ylva," I spoke, deepening my voice slightly. After all, I was the man here.

Her face lit up when I told her to follow me, she was always begging to accompany me. I often told her that it was not right for a young girl to follow a man around. She would laugh at me, her voice like morning birds, and grab my hand in defiance.

"Where are we going, Erik?" she asked, grasping my hand in one and her doll in the other hand.

"Mother has asked me to take you to bathe," I replied as we walked away from the village.

Her smile faded and she dropped her little head.

"Do not worry, little one, I will not allow harm to come to you. You are safe with me," I bragged.

We walked a few feet farther and I heard a small sob from my sister. A woman crying, no matter how small they were, has always bothered me. I tried to ignore the sobs.

That worked for all of another five feet. Finally, I stopped and stooped down to her height. Even as a teenager I was nearly six feet tall. When I was able to look at her face, I gently pushed her golden locks behind her ears. Once her face was revealed, she dropped her eyes in an attempt to hide her tears from me.

'My little warrior," this made her smile, "what is the matter with you?" I asked.

"I do not want to take a bath, Erik. I want to go fight with you," she said to me, finally raising her blue eyes to meet mine.

"Fight? You know that I have not yet seen battle. Why would you think we are going to fight?"

"You have your sword with you," my young sister pointed out to me.

I laughed from somewhere deep inside, and instead of embarrassing her, Ylva laughed with me.

"I brought my sword to protect you, my lady. Now come, the sun rises higher. Mother and Father will expect us home soon."

She wiped her tears on the sleeve of her tunic and once again took possession of my hand. We walked in silence for a few moments.

"Ylva, what were you going to fight with, little one?" I asked.

She thought about this for a minute, before cleverly replying.

"Thor would see that you needed my help in battle and he would have given me his hammer."

"Really, little Ylva fighting with the sword of the Mighty Thor? A true force to be reckoned with."

The lake was within eyeshot now, and Ylva had started moving at a slower pace.

"Sister, a warrior must be very fast. I wager that I can make it to the lake before you do."

Before I knew it, she had dropped my hand and was running as fast as her little legs could take her to the water. She stopped just at the edge and turned to make a face at me. There was little I would not do for her, and only she knew that.

"You really loved her," Sookie said, pulling me from my reverie.

"She was my dearest one at that point in my life. Of course, I did not fawn over her in the presence of others. I was there when she was born. My father was in the fields, my brothers tending to the animals and I had come inside to retrieve a bucket for milking the goats. My mother was laid upon her bed, writhing in pain. She called for my father, but he was not there.

I ran to the mid-wife and returned to my mother as fast as I could. Ylva had arrived only moments after the older woman made it into the house. I was the first one to hold my little sister, even before my mother.

I felt a warm tear land on my neck.

"The water is getting cold, Lover. Shall we continue my story in the bedroom?" I asked.

She nodded her agreement and we got out. After drying off, Sookie put on a hideous flannel nightgown that I had never before seen. I raised an eyebrow.

"What? I thought it was story time, I want to be comfortable."

"Nothing, just know that you will not be hidden in that thing all night long."

She rolled her eyes at me and crossed the room to the bed, where it was my turn to hold her.

"Go on with your story, please," she begged.

I stroked her cheek and picked up where I had left off.

Ylva waited by the shore while I slowly jogged up to her. I set down the bag and placed my sword against a rock, and dropped to my knees in front of my sister.

"Erik, I win. I am faster than you are."

"Yes, little sister, you are much faster than I am in my old age," I replied as I removed her tunic and shirt.

I took off my own boots and walked into a shallow part of the water with her. I brought the lump of soap from the bag and a coarse wash cloth.

After her initial distaste of bathing, she played gleefully in the water for a few moments while I prepared to bathe her.

I looked off into the distance and saw the ship I had heard my parents speak of, only this time there were two ships floating together. I knew that if it was not discovered soon who these visitors were that Father would be leaving to fight.

Finally, I turned my attention away from the ships and back to my little sister. The rag was lathered with the earth scented soap, and I washed the squirming child as quickly as possible. Washing her hair proved to be the most difficult part of the task, but it was also accomplished.

After she was clean to my satisfaction, I took a moment to wash myself since I was already here, while she splashed happily in the water a few feet away. I had just risen from rinsing my long hair, when I spotted a boy close to my own age standing on the shore. He was rifling through our bag, stealing what he could as fast as he could.

"Du! Steg bort från den där väskan eller jag kommer att släppa dig där du står!" I screamed out at him. It was evident that he did not speak my language, but as I stood from the water the tone of my voice and my height must have frightened him. I watched as his running figure disappeared into the woods.

I ran to the shore and threw our belongings back in the bag, shaking the dirt out of Ylva's clothes. I was nearly finished when I heard her scream.

"Erik! Erik! Hjälp mig! Låt mig gå!" she screamed at the man to let her go. He was older, possibly in his thirties. His long red beared was braided and secured with a leather band and dark beads.

He held my sister's small naked body out of the water and stroked and appraised her as if he were making a purchase.

"Din jävel!" I screamed.

I took up my sword and ran into the water. As I approached he literally threw my little sister into the water and raced back to the shore to retrieve his weapon. I slowed only briefly to make sure she was okay and then took to the shore where the man waited for me.

He had drawn his own sword. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. The blade was thin and curved sharply, rising to its tip. The hilt was rounded to protect his hand, I presumed. It was no matter. He had dared to put his hands on my sister, today he would take his last breath.

I ran at the bastard at full speed, my sword raised above my head. I brought the weapon down upon him and he blocked it with his own.

He laughed at my inexperience and this only fueled my hatred. My sword cut through the air over and over, each time he expertly moved or blocked me. His laughter rang.

He turned his sword around and hit me in the head with the butt of it. I staggered backward and my vision became blurry. I felt sick to my stomach and I could smell the blood running down my forehead.

Shaking my head, I refused to fall. I ran at him again, sword out. This time I managed to cut into the unprotected skin of his right arm.

He howled in pain. I smiled, that blow had ended his maniacal laughter. Before I knew what had happened he had thrown his weapon to the ground and his large, white hands were around my throat.

I was tall and strong, but he was much larger than I was and holding me tightly with both hands he easily raised me off of the ground.

The lack of air combined with the wound to my head, were threatening my consciousness. I found I could not move my arms, so I kicked out at the man.

Although, I had landed several hardy kicks to his chest, he only closed his hands tighter over my windpipe.

He began to laugh again and I prayed for something, anything to make him let me go. Just as I felt my body begin to go limp, my prayers were answered.

The thick fingers loosened and I was dropped to the ground. The giant man turned towards the water.

Ylva stood in the water. Clutched in her tiny hands was a cache of rocks. She pelted him one at a time with the rocks.

The stones hit him in the legs, chest and arms. He roared in anger. He began to advance towards her, his hands at the crotch of the pants he wore, wrestling with the closure.

I heard him yell something in an unfamiliar language but the intent of the message was clear. She continued to throw rocks at the man, but the terror in her voice was clear.

I would be damned if he put his filthy fucking hands on my sister again. It took all the strength I had inside of me, but I rose and took up my sword again.

" Kom tillbaka och slåss ditt svin!" Come back and fight you pig! I spat at the monster.

He stopped and looked from Ylva to me, back and forth. Struggling with the challenge or his desire. Finally, it seemed he had made his choice, but before he could turn to me Ylva caught him with a rock straight to his genitals.

He bellowed. The gods had steadied her arm and guided the stone with deadly aim and force. He staggered but did not fall as he grabbed at his aching cock.

I screamed to my sister to run towards me and she immediately obeyed. As soon as she was on shore she crouched and hid behind the rock, wrapping my tunic around herself. I could hear her crying, but I had to deal with her attacker. He was quickly recovering and had murder in his eyes.

He stomped onto the shore and waved his crooked sword at me once more. It was at that moment, knowing what he had intended to do to my young sister that I knew that he would die. Or I would die trying to kill him.

The moment his feet hit the shore he ran at full speed to me. I felt his power again as I blocked his sword at the last moment. He broke and prepared to plunge his sword into me. My youth and strength allowed me to roll from his thrust.

This enraged the monster and he cursed into the winds. Over and over he came at me; I blocked, moved and thrust back until my arms hurt from the effort.

The wound on my head was throbbing and I was dripping in sweat, my giant foe was bleeding profusely from several gashes of my infliction but continued to fight.

Then it happened, he showed weakness. The mountain of a man was tiring and I knew that now was my chance. I raised my sword, turned it and slammed the hilt down on his vulnerable shoulder. The shock sent his sword flying through the air, he was at my mercy. He hit a knee, panting with the exertion of our fighting. I wanted to look into the eyes of the enemy, I wanted him to know it was only a boy who would end his life.

"Titta in i ögonen på din död!" Look into the eyes of your death! I commanded him.

He did not understand my words, but he knew the power behind my words. He raised his filthy head and dropped his sword.

I glanced, only for a second back at my sister, leaning over the rock watching us.

" Titta inte, Ylva!" I ordered my sister not to watch what I was about to do. Without a thought, she turned her whole body around and covered her ears with her tiny hands.

There were no more words, there was nothing to be said. I brought my blade across the rogue's throat with all the power I still possessed. I watched as the blood poured from the gaping wound, as the now soul-less corpse fell to the sand and rocks. The body jerked a few times and then grew still. I scanned the tree-line, looking for the boy or any of the fallen soldiers comrades.

For a few moments, I simply stood over it, my first kill, my first blood. My heart knew that he was no more, but my mind waited for him to spring once more and fight. I had become a man protecting my family, my father would be proud.

There was no sound. I could not hear the water or the wind, no animals moved about. The silence was deafening.

I jumped when I felt my empty hand taken. I looked down at my small sister.

She was clad in my tunic which pooled around her feet in its length. I fell to my knees in front of her and she wrapped her little arms around me. My strength had left me and I was weeping, I had never felt weaker. The small child was comforting me. I quickly dried my tears, I had to be a man.

"Ylva, are you well? Are you hurt?"I asked, holding her at arm's length now. After pushing her wet and once more dirty hair away from her face, I did a hasty inspection.

"I was so scared, Erik. I was..." she threw herself at me and I held her close. I wrapped my arms tightly around her small body and thanked the gods for her safety. Thinking of the comforting words I remembered our mother saying to me when I was a child, I spoke gently to her.

What had seemed to be only moments had in fact been much longer. The sun was nearly at its setting point. I gathered our bag, leaving Ylva in my tunic. With my sword over one shoulder and the bag under my arm, I lifted my little warrior onto my hip and carried her home.

When we arrived at the house, my mother was frantic. My father had gathered a small party to search for us. As we stepped into the room, we were bombarded with questions. From the moment we stepped into the house, Ylva was fighting to be heard over the commotion.

"Father, Erik saved me. He killed the monster!" Ylva screamed from my mother's arms.

After the story was told, it was decided that at first light a party would go to the shore to collect the body and make a plan of action against the intruders to our village. My father's pride in my defense of my sister changed my status and I was to be included in the attack-for the very first time.

The gathered men left in order to secure their own homes.

I watched as my mother cleaned my sister with a soft cloth and a bowl of warm water at the table. Her little eyes were being claimed by sleep. When she was clean to my mother's satisfaction and had been kissed over and over, she asked our mother if I could take her to bed.

Standing, I stooped and picked up my Ylva. She slumped in exhaustion, tiny head on my shoulder. I took her straight to the bedding we all shared and proceeded to lay her next to Bryndis.

"Erik?"she asked me as a yawn escaped her.

"Yes, little one."

"I want to sleep with you tonight," she pleaded her eyes nearly closed.

We walked over to my space and I laid her down next to me. She positioned herself as close to me as she could get and put her the fingers of one of her small hands into my hair.

Nearly asleep she said, "Brother, I love you."

"You were magnificent today, my little warrior. I love you as well," I told her.

My only reply was a soft snore from my little Ylva.

"The little girl at the park, looked so much like my sister. It has been so long and I remember it like it was only moments ago." I told her.

She had turned herself towards me, her eyes were red rimmed from crying. Wiping them on her flannel sleeve, she finally spoke.

"What happened with the battle?" she asked me.

"They were Celtic invaders. They had been sailing from village to village, stealing what they could. Killing. Because they had no warning, our soldiers were able to advance on them. After only three hours of battle, the remaining Celts surrendered to our Elders. They were immediately made slaves. I remember that the boy who tried to steal from us was among the survivors, and wondered why he did not warn his people. There were very few losses on our side. I fought beside my father and killed many of the enemy soldiers myself." I explained.

"What about Ylva?" she prodded me.

"Oh, when Ylva had become a woman, she was very beautiful. Many young men asked our father for her hand in marriage. She vehemently refused to marry even when my father demanded it. She stated that she wished to fight for her people and that she would be a warrior. She was spoiled and my father, so strong otherwise, acquiesced time and time again when she would deny a suitor.

That was until Arvid, a young soldier of our village, expressed his desire for her hand. She was a good match for him, a strong woman for a strong man. They were married soon after they met. She actually got her wish to fight once but not long after her marriage she was with child, Arvid begged her to stay home. And she did.

At the time I was turned, Ylva was about twenty years old and had borne two sons and an independent daughter, her mirror image named Toril. She helped to raise my children after I left.

Shortly after I was turned, I sneaked away from Appius one night. I watched her from a distance, I did not dare enter the village. She patrolled her house as if she was in battle, with three of her own children and my children around the table, she might as well have been."

"Thank you, for sharing that with me," Sookie said to me, as she laid her head on my chest.

"All that I have, I will share with you. Even my stories. You are my dearest and my wife," I said, placing a kiss on her head.

"Well," she replied coyly, "If story time is over, I can think of something you could share with me."

I barely registered the flannel hitting the floor, before she was over me.

Oh yes, story time was most definitely over.

A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed my story. Good luck to all the contestants in the First Blood contest.

Translations by Google Translate:

"Du! Steg bort från den där väskan eller jag kommer att släppa dig där du står!"- "You! Step away from that bag or I'll drop you where you stand! "

"Erik! Erik! Hjälp mig! Låt mig gå!"- " Erik! Erik! Help me! Let me go! "

"Din jävel"- You bastard!


End file.
